Broken Angel
by xxsincerely-yours
Summary: When Eponine is nearly killed at the barricade, she is moved to Enjolras's home to recover. During this time, will Eponine be able to let go of Marius, of her horrible past, and the walls she has built up around herself? Will Enjolras be able to reach out to Eponine, his broken angel?
1. Prologue

_So, guys, this is another story, because I have a bit of writer's block on the other one. Never fear, I shall update that one tomorrow, pinkypie promise. Anyways, I decided just to have a bit of fun with this one. - __**xxsincerely-yours**_

Enjolras was proud, rigid, and unfearing, the holier-than-thou leader of the rebels, the one who didn't need anyone. Yes, him. He was lonely. He was handsome - curly red hair , striking features, and deep crystalline blue eyes. He could have had any pick of women, but instead, he chose to devote himself to his Patria and his books.

The men teased him, boyish voices ringing across the square. They teased him about women. The only woman he was interested in Patria, Lady France. He didn't have time for women or love. But despite all that, he was lonely, and found himself in the dark alleys of the prostitute business more times than he cared to admit. Despite what the men thought, Enjolras not an innocent, but only Marius Pontmercy, his best friend, knew that. Despite his obvious ignorance of how to speak to a woman, he _had_ been with women before.

Also, Enjolras knew most of what went on around him. After all, he was a leader, and had to know such things. When the men of the rebellion met at the cafe, he would read, but listen at the same time. This is how he began to notice the raven-haired girl who trailed his best friend around like he was God's gift on Earth.

She was a little urchin off the streets, one of the poor. She was gamine though, and she fluttered among the dark-thoughted men like a ray of sunshine - albeit, a very sarcastic, sharp-tongued, witty ray of sunshine. Enjolras supposed she was maybe a year or so younger than him. He would have expected her to turn to brandy, or ale for comfort, as so many did, but her pure, melodic voice showed that she had not. Her hair was indeed, extremely black, and it was very wavy, but not exactly curly. It was a ratty, tangled mess, but Enjolras supposed that it might be extremely handsome if it was clean and smooth. She did not seem painfully skinny, but gorgeously slender. Her eyes were a molten-gold color, and even under the layers and layers of dirt on her face, she was very pretty.

The raven-haired girl always wore olive colored trousers and a tight black shirt that was a little too small. Enjolras thought she must have had that shirt for a long time, as the shirt had been mended multiple times. Those clothes were probably the only she owned. Even though her attire was shocking for a girl, nobody would have mistaken her for a man.

She wasn't like the other girls. She knew how to shoot guns and use knives, as she always strapped a knife to her calf, and holstered a revolver in her belt. Her arms were well-muscled and toned, and the bruises she sometimes showed up at the cafe with were always in the shape of a man's handprint, something nobody ever discussed, but it was a given. Somebody was abusing her. It angered Enjolras, that somebody would hurt a woman, but he knew that it was commonplace. Fathers, hitting their daughters with ferocity, men, abusing their prostitutes - it was a hard life out there, and he knew it.

Marius had told him about her life and childhood at the tavern with her mother and father, and it shocked him. She was a virgin, chaste, but her sister had long since turned to that path. She was a godly woman, and extremely learned, literate and very capable.

She intrigued Enjolras more than he would've liked, but he told himself that it was because she reminded him of the rest of France, and what he needed to do the help them. He denied his growing interest in her, and they remained good friends, talking and nodding at each other when they saw the other. But perhaps God saw two lonely souls on Earth, and decided to do something about it.

_Hope you liked it, and the first chapter will be up in a few hours. Thanks for your time! Review? If you have any requests, please don't hesitate to tell me. I am open to suggestions. __**- xxsincerely-yours**_


	2. Chapter 1: Eponine's Sacrifice

_I'm back! I hope you like this chapter - __**xxsincerely-yours**_

AT THE BARRICADE:

"Fire again!" Enjolras bellowed, barely able to hear himself over the racket the guns were making. He had been injured once in the leg, but it wasn't deep, and after letting Joly wrap it up, he continued fighting, battling the waves of pain that came from his left leg.

Marius had arrived late, lips covered in pink rouge, probably from kissing and screwing that golden haired brat of his...what was her name? Colette? He shook the thought from his mind and fired again, only slightly aware of a boy wearing a large cap shooting next to him.

Suddenly, there was a booming sound, as a large cannon was rolled in the midst of the opposing force. There was not a single gunshot from the rebels, as the watched in growing horror. Suddenly though, there was a flash of movement among the soldiers, and flames were suddenly lit, a wall of the orange-gold destruction, dancing in between the soldiers and the rebels. Enjolras blinked. What had happened? Then, he saw the boy, the boy with the cap, laying down powder and setting fire to it. Unfortunately, the soldiers did too. "Watch out boy!" Enjolras yelled. Gunshots sounded, and the boy's cap suddenly fell, revealing the long raven hair of Eponine herself. The men all watched in horror as her body received multiple shots. Her eyes were strangely blank. "Long live the rebellion," she said flatly. Then, she fell.

Behind her, the wall of flames exploded, consuming the soldiers, the cannon, and everything on the other side. Suddenly, an earth-shaking _boom_ shook the ground, and the men were all tossed like rag dolls of their feet.

The sky was full of blackness, but the fire had burned itself out as quickly as it had started. _Epona!_ Enjolras staggered to his feet. _Was she still alive? Was she dead?_ He heard weeping, and turned to see Marius, cradling Eponine's limp body in his arms. She still breathed though, and he fell to his feet and knelt, throwing aside all decency and checking her body for the wounds. Four gunshots had felled her - one in the calf, one in the shoulder, one in the side, and most disturbingly, one in her chest. The blood stained the white strips of cloth she had used to bind her breasts back. Oh god, there was blood everywhere, staining Marius's coat, the ground at his feet - would she die here?

"Ponine, don't leave me!" Marius wept. "You are my best friend." Enjolras fought the urge to shake his friend until he had some sense knocked into him, as he saw Eponine's face, heartbroken that Marius would never be able to love her. Then he asked himself, why did he care so much? "You saved us all, Epona," he said gravely, stroking her hair. The men all gathered around her - the strangely sober Grantaire, Courfeyrac, all of them.

Her breath came in shallow gasps. "I am glad- so glad you are all alive." She seemed to gather her strength for a moment before shouting, "Long live the rebellion! Down with the aristocracy!" then she fell against Marius, eyes closed. The men shouted after her, "Long live the rebellion, down with the aristocracy!" But for the two men, Marius and Enjolras, there was only Eponine, the girl that had saved them all, her blood trickling down on the cobblestones.

Then, with a shuddering breath, Eponine began to shake and breathe again, shallowly. "Joly!" Marius shouted, and the other student came running. "Can she be saved?" Enjolras demanded, not caring if it seemed odd. Joly studied the girl for a moment. "I can try. Get me some bandages and water! Now!" He hollered, and some men went running for the supplies.

Joly carefully cleansed the wounds with the water, then wrapped them with the new bandages. "It is up to God now," he muttered solemnly. "You should get her to a warm place and feed her if she can keep it down." Marius sighed, running his hands through his hair. "I already have enough men in my home, and the hospitals are full and running. Where can she go?"

Enjolras twitched as both Joly and Marius turned to stare at him. "What?" he snapped. Marius nodded. "It could work," he muttered to Joly. Joly nodded. "Yes, yes indeed." Enjolras was getting irritated. "Would one of you please tell me?" Marius looked at him. "You have a house. A large house. A housekeeper. Plenty of money." Immediately, Enjolras could see where both men were going, and widened his eyes. "You mean, me, take, Eponine in my house?" Joly shrugged. "She did save your - our - lives," he pointed out. Enjolras sighed and swiped at his sweaty, soot-covered face with a hand. "Fine," he muttered. "But somebody is going to get her to my house. I have to stay here." Marius volunteered, and as soon they left, Enjolras turned to survey the damage. "Long live the rebellion," he sighed. Suddenly, he felt a knife, cold, in his back. "Yes," a reptilian voice whispered. "Long live the rebellion, Monsieur Antoine Enjolras. But without you!" As Enjolras collapsed, he saw the sneering face of Javert in front of him. He closed his eyes to blackness, and his last thought was of Eponine. _I'm sorry_, he thought, as he drifted away. _You saved my life only for me to lose it again._

_Review? Pretty pretty please? - _**_xxsincerely-yours_**


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